


Going Soft

by tipplerdoeswords



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, caustic is totally chill and used to things by now, more mundanity from the lives of the legends, ordinary interactions make me extremely powerful, slow burn revenant becoming a socialized murder robot with help from everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipplerdoeswords/pseuds/tipplerdoeswords
Summary: Revenant joins the games and Caustic loses his official bad guy status.
Comments: 41
Kudos: 286





	1. Chapter 1

"Thank you for coming on short notice." said a vaguely familiar woman sitting behind a polished desk stacked with paper forms and colorful brochures. A man sat with her holding a toothy smile on his face that didn't hide the slight sheen of sweat on his brow. Caustic assigned them numbers in his head as he took a seat in the empty chair in front of the desk.

Revenant, the new legend as of last week, sat hunched in the other chair, large metal frame spilling over the edges with sharp points and bits of fabric. He looked murderous, which was normal. Caustic was impressed that PR #1 and #2 weren't bloody smears on the ground.

"We've just finished giving Revenant his onboarding as a new legend. He was exempted from most of the usual training but industry regulations require us to give him an abbreviated sexual assault awareness and safe driving habits presentation. We also told him the Apex Games standards for acceptable public behavior."

Revenant made a low, hoarse sound. Caustic took a moment to realize it was a chuckle.

"Anyway," said PR #2 brightly, "We wanted to inform you both that the token quote unquote villain of the future games will now be Revenant. Caustic, you've done an excellent job with the mantle so far and we'd like to pass it to the younger generation."

Caustic was pretty sure Revenant was older than him but didn't try to correct PR #2. These social science types were never rigorous in their language.

"We're not asking you to change anything important, only let you know we'll be tweaking the marketing going forward." continued PR #2.

Caustic glanced at Revenant, who was currently gouging a crude skull into the polished wood desk with two long fingers like a bored teenager in math class.

"Forgive my curiosity." he said. "I have no issue with this choice, as long as it does not interfere with my work, but what prompted this decision? I have not been any more or less effective on the field as far as I know since my kills have not moved beyond one standard deviation of past seasons."

Revenant's scratching became noticeably louder, as if he was imagining the wood under his hands was someone's skull. PR #1 cleared her throat nervously.

"Well Revenant is the newcomer and naturally arrives with more mystery. When a champion becomes known, they're less interesting. By now, most of your fan theories have a ring of truth to them which makes them stale. It's a simple decision to shift our focus and resources onto Revenant."

"Revenant has more female fans." chimed in PR #2. "That's a fairly good indicator of how "edgy" a legend is perceived and people love the legends that appear dangerous or taboo."

"Interesting." Caustic said. It was not, but the games had to squeeze as much money from the industry as they could before someone else started a widely popular blood sport.

There were wood shavings on half the desk now. Caustic made a note on his tablet that the new legend disliked meetings. He found them a waste of time himself and the game runners had learned their lesson early and kept things under twenty minutes whenever they dragged him in.

PR #1 shut her laptop and stood up. "Glad we're all on the same page. We'll follow up if there are any changes."

She extended a damp hand to Caustic and nodded to Revenant before hurrying out of the office. If Caustic remembered correctly, this was her office, so the new legend's reputation must be quite potent. None of the other legends had ever killed part of the staff before, though there had been a few altercations. Perhaps he should study Revenant more closely during their next game.

He left the office and passed the rows of cubicles, lost in thought. Caustic truly could care less how the salivating spectators of the games perceived him. That was a matter for the office workers to worry about, he had more important concerns, like getting his raw chemical orders through the absolutely dense company that promised same day shipping yet somehow was always a week late.

He walked back to the residential side of the massive Apex facilities building with Revenant trudging behind him, occasionally dragging his metal hands along the sleek walls as if he enjoyed causing minor property damage. Who knew what the simulacrum enjoyed besides killing and moaning about his tragic backstory like most of the other legends. Caustic savored the simple joys, like the white blisters blooming across the soft tissues of his test subjects or the initial acceleration when leaping out of the drop ship.

"Skinbag."

They were in an empty hallway. Undoubtedly there was a hidden camera here, to protect the assets from getting into trouble. Caustic stopped walking and turned around with a single raised eyebrow.

Revenant moved until he was only a few centimeters away from him, looking down from his skeletal height with his signature regenerative wisps curling off his back.

Decent loom, maybe an 8/10. Caustic met Revenant's glowing eyes with objective disinterest.

"Keep your hands down by your waist unless you're going for an attack, it keeps your shoulders square and the camera shot is cleaner." he said.

Revenant did that low chuckle again. "I thought you at least wouldn't care about what the skinsuits said."

"You do this for long enough and start caring. I'm only trying to give advice to the _younger generation_."

"I'm only here to kill. Everything else can go to hell."

The usual tough guy routine. Even the legends were subject to the same newcomer swagger that wore off in a few months. Caustic could still remember the awkwardness from when Crypto was thawing and insisted on being gruff and aloof even outside the arena.

"You wanted to discuss...?"

Revenant leaned back and considered the scientist.

"During that infernal meeting they insisted that I ask about your gas. You have an agreement with the MRVN for the sake of so called game balance and apparently I need to set up a similar arrangement."

Caustic had been thinking about that as well. Any more inorganics and there could conceivably be a squad that rendered him irrelevant. Sometimes he woke up at night from terrible dreams of robots standing around him and laughing.

"There is a simple fix where a small EMP triggers when a gas trap activates. It deals an equivalent amount of damage while you're within the area of effect. It needs to be coded specifically to you, something that I have Wattson help with. Stop by the lab sometime and we can get it done within an hour."

"I'll come tomorrow. Alter me in any way and I will kill the girl, then you. I will give you a slow, excruciating death." Revenant said conversationally.

"It will be a pleasure working with you." Caustic said with a bared tooth grin. He meant it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rev goes into the lab with Wattson and Caustic.

Wattson touched a button on top of the device and Revenant’s limbs twitched.

“Tell us if and where you felt anything, and how the pain was on a scale of one to ten please.” said Caustic drily.

“Upper body. One, like a mild sting.”

Wattson nodded and swept her holometer over Revenant’s chest and back again. She scrolled through the data that appeared on the screen, nose almost brushing the surface, and then returned to the code she had open on her computer.

They were in Caustic’s main lab. He had another in the drop ship but this one was much larger and less prone to accidents caused by idiotic, hyperactive neighbors. Caustic made an effort to empty the washing machine and shove a stack of uninflated gas traps into the corner before Revenant arrived. The simulacrum had glared suspiciously at the fume hoods and reactors while Wattson set up her work station.

Revenant shifted in place when Wattson raised her finger over the button again.

“Ready? Okay—“

This time Revenant didn’t react and Wattson looked crestfallen.

“Mild pressure on the ribs. No pain.” grunted Revenant.

Ribs. Not a normal choice of words for a machine.

“Let me try the settings we have for Pathfinder.” Wattson fiddled with side of the EMP generator and waited for Revenant to nod that he was ready.

They went back and forth for the next half an hour, Wattson tweaking variables and frowning while Caustic observed and Revenant grumbled through the process.

Caustic straightened in his chair the first time Revenant groaned in pain and started to cough. The simulacrum extended his skeletal fingers and scraped more paint off his already scuffed chest plate. 

That was some authentic chest clawing and Caustic leaned forward eagerly as Revenant stumbled and coughed again.

“Ah, pardon me Mr. Revenant, that was probably too much.” said Wattson. She hurried to type in new values on her computer with one eye on the seething simulacrum.

“Keep the frequency but decrease the power.” said Caustic. “It’s only fair that he feel similar to his human competitors.”

Revenant was still down on one knee, rasping cough rattling through his nonexistent throat. The phone sized device on the counter next to him beeped innocently. He glared defiantly at Caustic while his hands dug into the tile floor.

Good for the simulacrum to get a taste of being brought down by his equals before the real thing. It might help curb that unoriginal arrogance that Caustic had experienced yesterday. Then group therapy would hopefully smooth out those unproductive anger issues and Caustic could have some real fun in the field without worrying about a bloody revenge attack off-duty. The wonders of a stable emotional state.

Wattson activated the device again and this time Revenant whipped towards her with one hand on his metal neck and the other drawn back, ready to strike. Wattson hurriedly shut off the EMP.

“Change it back to how it was the first time.” he hissed. “Do it!”

Wattson frowned, and looked to Caustic for guidance. He knew she had her own defenses prepared for today but it would be better if they didn’t have to use them. Wouldn’t want Revenant to trust them even less. 

“I thought this frequency was working quite well. It is supposed to be unpleasant.” she said gently.

“It was unpleasant before. This has an unacceptable side-effect and I will not tolerate its use.”

Wattson tapped her chin. “That’s likely because of your phantom sensations due to be a former human. Honestly that’s a sign that it’s working—”

Revenant whirled on her again and this time Wattson stuck him with a cube that shot blue sparks across his body and locked his joints in place.

Revenant roared and toppled onto the already damaged floor with a resounding crash that made Caustic’s glassware rattle in the cabinets.

“I think we have enough data for a prototype.” she said, voice hard. “Apologies, but do not threaten me in the future. I am only trying to help. Mr. Caustic I will come by later to install an update on your existing traps.”

She left Caustic to deal with the taking the cube off Revenant. Maybe it was well deserved payback for asking her to do this, but Caustic didn’t envy giving Revenant back use of his body when he was spitting curses and swearing vengeance on the floor.

He sighed and crouched next to Revenant’s side.

“Before I let you go, yes we all know you were human and most of us have guessed you have dysphoria with your artificial body. We were briefed on it and your ranting isn’t difficult to parse. We have an in-house therapist available on-call 24/7 and group sessions twice a week Sunday and Wednesday evenings at 8:00pm.”

Caustic put on one of his insulated work gloves and pulled the cube off Revenant’s side. Pain sliced through his arm as Revenant clawed at the hand holding the cube. Caustic dropped it and Revenant skittered away and shifted into his other form, then drove his heel down on the device, crushing the delicate circuit.

Caustic expected the following blow, but wasn’t fast enough to completely evade it and he fell against the lab bench, off balance, as the wind was knocked out of him. Caustic heard glass shatter as Revenant committed more petty acts of vandalism and he caught a glimpse of the simulacrum storming out of the lab between his own fit of coughing. The sore solar plexus didn’t help his already scarred lungs. The cut in his arm was bleeding and he fished around in his pocket for a basic first aid syringe.

What a fascinating test subject. After he recovered, Caustic examined the damage to the fume hood and kicked the largest piece of glass towards the trash. A few flasks were knocked over and Caustic sighed before tugging on a pair of large nitrile gloves and getting to work. Oh, the games had offered many times to help him in his lab but he didn’t trust the janitors to not be spies come to steal or sabotage his experiments.

He was already sore from Revenant’s punch and when he bent down to sweep up the glass his stomach throbbed. A gentle reminder of the power behind the simulacrum’s blows. Of course, Revenant could have killed him by extending his fingers but Caustic took the nonfatal hit as a sign that Revenant wasn’t too upset. Good. Already showing signs of progress.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relaxing non-cannibalistic dinner with Bangalore and Bloodhound

"Bone appetite." Bloodhound said wryly. The vaguely human sized bones were charred and still smelled like campfire smoke. Hound had hacked them into rough pieces and the buttery smell of marrow filled the small kitchen causing Mirage to stick his head around the corner hopefully before Caustic threw a fork at him.

Caustic was pretty sure the bones were from an animal, but he asked anyway for Anita's sake. 

"Where did you secure these? Local butcher shop?"

Bloodhound turned to stare at him with their owlish mask/face. "Found them in the woods. Were buried under some snow until the recent spring thaw. Leftovers from a kill."

Caustic nodded. This was all perfectly fine and standard behavior for Bloth, but he really would like to make sure what they were about to eat was deer and not some lost hiker from last winter.

"What animal is it from?"

Bloodhound shrugged and pushed the steaming, delicious smelling platter towards them.

Caustic rubbed his brow with the tips of his fingers while his stomach audibly growled. Hound could give Wraith a run in the uncivilized living department but at least he didn't have to eat Wraith's food, which as far as he knew was protein bars and instant ramen. 

This communal dinner was a trust and team building exercise he had had the misfortune of thinking up after an incident between him and Hound. Anita was the neutral party, friends with both of them and there to make sure no one was poisoned. She was surprisingly excited to share her childhood recipes that involved entirely too many army rations, so Caustic had set up the kitchen request and the scheduling and made casserole and pistachio macarons for the first meeting.

Hound had brought miscellaneous game the last time it was their turn, but the rich mushroom stew they made with it was excellent. A meal of animal marrow was acceptable, but not Caustic’s first choice. Homo sapiens marrow was a strict no, for obvious reasons.

"Is it human or some other high intelligence life form, is what I'm wondering." Caustic sighed.

This was a delicate question because if Bloodhound said they knew it wasn't human because they knew what human tasted like then Bangalore would report them to the games again and Bloodhound would murder Caustic in his sleep and Caustic had a paper he had to finish and he was really hungry after the games and just wanted calories so he could shut himself in the lab to work—

"Found hooves with the bones. Should be fine."

That was good enough for Caustic and he reached for the tongs and placed several chunks of femur on his plate. Some juice dripped from the jagged end of a piece as he carried it over the cheap blue tablecloth. He passed the tongs to Bangalore and secured the salt and pepper, crucial components to Bloodhound's tasty but bland meals.

Bloodhound finally kicked out their chair and sat, put their muddy elbows up on the table, and fed their raven scraps of jerky from their pocket.

Once Caustic figured out how to extract the scalding marrow and had consumed enough that his brain was no longer complaining, he turned to Bangalore to get her analysis on the day’s match.

"You were on Revenant's squad today, how did he do?" he asked. 

Bangalore shrugged, mouth full. She wiped the grease of her lips with a cloth napkin and took a long drink of water before responding.

"He was fine. Had to teach him about some of the equipment and he paid attention and learned fast. We landed far from the first ring and had to run most of the game but he didn't have trouble keeping up with me or Crypto. I have to say as a professional, that machine has terrible running posture."

"No threats of violence?"

"Plenty against the few enemies we saw and lots of unprofessional rudeness whenever Crypto pinged anything for him, but it was all talk. We kept the comms clear for his benefit. Slow game for us overall, low kill count even though we survived to the top five. Bloth, this stuff is really rich, it's delicious but I don't think I'll be able to eat it all."

Bloodhound hummed in acknowledgement. During these little dinners they never ate much besides sneaking a pinch of food under their mask while watching Caustic and Bangalore eat. Any leftovers were placed in the fridge and usually gone by morning.

Having blank glass lenses stare him down while he struggled to split open a thigh bone did not make this dinner particularly relaxing for Caustic, but at least the food was nourishing.

"How about you?" Bangalore said. "Didn't see your group before we were taken out."

"We got stuck in Sorting Factory and died early. A disappointing result, but it wasn't anyone's fault, the loot we found was lackluster and Wraith's team was nearby."

Bangalore nodded sympathetically. "Bad luck. She's been on a tear this whole season. I heard they've even been asking her to slow down so things aren't so one sided."

They all took a moment to scoff at the idiocy of the game runners and their attempt to stop Wraith from seizing victory with her pale, bloody hands, and then went back to the meal.

Caustic was trying to wipe the grease out of his beard when Bangalore tapped the table and swallowed the last of her ice water.

“Just remembered to ask, word on the street is that you and Revenant are pretty close already.”

Caustic blinked, taken aback. “I didn’t think so. I’ve heard nothing but disdain from him.”

“Hm. Well if he’s talking to you that’s better than how he is with the rest of us. Feels like he resents us for being here even though he wanted to join. You probably have the best chance of getting through to him so we don’t have to tiptoe around the dorms for the next month.”

Caustic pushed back from the table and grunted halfheartedly. Maybe Anita was right but everyone else could at least try to communicate with Revenant instead of leaving him with the dirty work.

“I can deduce then that Pathfinder’s attempts have been met with opposition.”

Bangalore laughed. “Revenant thinks the poor guy is a class traitor. Species traitor? Whatever.” She stood up from the table and stretched her arms behind her back.

“Thanks Bloth, it was great. I’ve got a good follow-up recipe for next week. Sorry I can’t stay to help clean up, have a family call I need to make.”

She left Caustic to silently put away bones with Bloodhound, with Arthur as moral support, bobbing on the hunter’s shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octane's viewers call Caustic a simp.

Octane yelped as his character was blown off the map and exploded into a burst of pink confetti. With a dramatic groan he slapped his desk and turned to squint at the chat log on his side monitor.

"My bad, my bad chat I messed up my combo and got punished. Hey what? I'm gonna die cause there's someone behind me?"

He turned to see Caustic glowering at him from the side of his special edition neon green gaming chair and let out another shriek. Caustic rolled his eyes and Octane slowly turned back to the screens, face turned perfectly calm.

"Wait just a second guys, hope I didn't get into too much trouble, send the police to my location if I give the signal or don’t come back in five minutes, haha." he said. Octane pulled off his glowing headset and mussed up his unruly hair while the edges of his mouth crept up his cheeks.

"Caustic, my man, to what do I owe the pleasure? That loud banging you heard earlier, that was actually Pathfinder falling down the stairs, can ya believe it, not me stomping on the desk or anything.” Octane winked and lifted one of his prosthetics in the air. Caustic pushed the cold metal foot away from his stomach.

"I'm not here to discuss your lackluster self-control, Octavio. I want to ask a favor.” Caustic crossed his arms and bent forward so that Octane had to crane his head back to maintain eye contact.

After second thought Caustic waved his gloved hand to indicate the notifications popping on the screen and added, “Would you mind turning the mike off so we are not overheard?"

"No point, I'll tell them what we talk about anyway. Let me adjust the camera so you're properly on screen." Octane reached up and wiggled the device to the side so that the sturdy lens was focused on Caustic's deep frown.

"I will be discrete then. I would like you to talk to our new coworker about your shared condition and discuss your experiences so that he does not feel isolated."

"Who?" Octane asked innocently. His smile was now stretched wide across his face.

"I know it is near impossible for you, but stop being asinine." Caustic sighed. "You know who I'm talking about and it would be good if you did something selfless in your life for once and helped him out. I would talk to him myself but he's been avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you? Why would anyone ever do that? You’re the most approachable legend we’ve got.”

“Sarcasm aside I believe I might have been too forward recently—What are your viewers calling me?"

Octane spun around for half a second to read the monitor, then turned to face Caustic again.

"Don't worry about it buddy, they've been calling me a simp whenever I talk to Ajay on stream. They're just having fun." Octavio wagged a finger in front of the camera mounted on the main computer. "Simp is a dead meme, chat. I see those donations and I appreciate your love but it's not even a little bit funny."

Caustic squinted suspiciously over Octane's shoulder at the column of text frenetically scrolling down spare monitor.

"I know I will regret asking this, but what is a simp and why am I being referred to as one?"

Octavio twirled his headset around his other hand and giggled. "Well the term originally meant a guy who gave a girl something valuable, usually money or attention, in hopes of getting her affection. He always ends up with nothing though. It became a meme ages ago and nowadays people use it ironically to mean anyone who cares about anyone else. The internet is really an amazing place."

"So your millions of brainwashed primates believe I am a 'simp' for trying to help one of my coworkers?" said Caustic.

"Exactly. Also I only have 50k viewers right now, calm down." Octane made to put his headset back on but Caustic stopped him with a hand on his forearm. If Octane plugged back in now nothing short of another grenade would get through his dense skull.

"You didn't answer my request, because you were, of course, distracted by these fawning laymen again. Their attention is worthless. I don't know why you bother with them."

"Why do you spend all your time being a glorified grad student? Because I love streaming, duh. Silvafam is life."

The chat went wild with heart emojis and tiny cartoon Octane's with animated tears running down their faces. Octane flashed a genuine smile towards the camera and made a tiny heart with his thumb and forefinger.

Caustic gave up and began his retreat from the dim room when Octane hooked a finger into his pants pocket, momentum dragging the Spaniard and his garish chair after the scientist and conveniently out of frame.

"Real talk, I've thought about it before, but Revenant's not the easiest guy to approach about sensitive topics like missing legs. I'm a daredevil, not suicidal. If he wants to come to me, great, I'm game. If not, I'm respecting that and keeping all my blood inside my body."

Caustic appreciated that Octavio was being serious, but anyone, even Octane, could see that Revenant would never ask for help.

"If an opportunity arises, take it. You could do some real good." he insisted.

Octane finally let go of Caustic's pants and leaned back.

"Man, you _are_ simping. You've never tried this hard for any of us before besides Wattson. Can't you let the poor guy figure it out without you trying to be his dad?"

"He keeps breaking the mirrors in the men's bathroom and you know he's much older than me." Caustic threw up his hands. "If the process can happen, why should I not take the most ideal path to getting him settled? It is the logical conclusion; he’s had plenty of time to try to fix himself and now we can step in.”

Octane already had his headphones over his ears and was queued into a new game. Caustic watched him chatter into the mike and gesture wildly for a minute, the man never still, magnetically enthusiastic while being charmingly insecure.

After Caustic reached his quota of human interaction for the day, he heaved a defeated sigh and left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenant is angsty. Water is wet.

Revenant paced around the dark living room.

It was his second week with the Apex games, and he was restless. The bureaucracy was only grating, but his confinement to the grounds with his fellow legends was infuriating. He was used to roaming cities like a specter, climbing up skyscrapers and terrorizing the humans beneath his feet.

Instead he was caged with his fellow legends who seemed to accept their restrictions happily. Some of them were still trying to talk to him, to his irritation.

The cheery MRVN was an annoyance. Revenant was going to pull apart his limbs and shatter his chest screen the next time Pathfinder asked for a high five or a good morning or a hello. 

Caustic was trying to manipulate him, he was sure. The scientist kept telling him to talk to the spineless health professionals who had never touched a battlefield.

Not only that, but Caustic’s gas traps and the device embedded in them made him feel like Revenant’s lungs were peeling. He didn’t have lungs. He didn’t have a body. Anything that reminded him of that was unacceptable. The scientist acted reserved and above it all, but Revenant would make him scream.

The answer to the false signals in his simulated mind was killing. The answer to the pain of his unending torment was more killing.

Apex had compounded his purgatory by healing him from the brink of death multiple times per game. He thought the games would be a place to bide his time, satisfy his bloodlust while planning who in the Hammond Robotics sphere to target next. Instead he was in a prison where his guards were his fellow inmates. He wouldn’t be able to leave until they were all genuinely dead.

He turned around and stalked into the hallway, thankfully empty at three in the morning. Revenant’s heavy steps through the lounge had been muffled by the thick carpet and once he reached tile he hunched until his fingers were brushing the floor so that the only sounds he made were insignificant clicks.

Who should he kill first? Wattson was on his list after she paralyzed him in the lab. Losing control of his body only made his mental claustrophobia worse and her false joy on the battleground was almost as bad as Pathfinder’s.

The weakest target would be the medic. Her expertise was useless against him and her companion drone had no combat capabilities. She was intelligent though, probably the most suspicious of him despite her politeness.

He could defeat any of them in close range combat, so there was no reason to aim low. It would be better to make a statement to the skinbags who thought they could keep him contained by killing their prize contestant.

Wraith. The favorite to win his first season here. He hadn’t been impressed when he encountered her team in the field. She was a mediocre shot and unpolished, using her abilities to manipulate the battle rather than her own skill. Without access to the Void, she was just another pathetic slab of flesh.

Revenant had memorized the location of everyone’s room the day he arrived. He found the hallway that led to Wraith’s apartment and slowly walked to her door.

Better to knock or break inside? The door was sturdy, and it would take more than one blow to force his flexible body through. The legends seemed to be wary, but willing to give him a chance when they addressed him. If he knocked, he could enter without alerting the others.

He raised his hand and tapped the door lightly. Almost immediately he heard footsteps approach the door and it swung open, revealing a pale, disheveled woman.

“Uh, you’re not my usual booty call.” She said with a frown. “I’m surprised you’re up Revenant, I’m used to being the only person awake at this hour.”

She was wearing polyester sweatpants and an overlarge official Apex t-shirt. Her hair was peeling out of a loose bun held together by a single elastic. Wraith gave Revenant a brief once over before she yawned and leaned against the door.

“Do you need anything? I was listening to some music, but I should try to go to sleep soon.”

No armor. No weapons. Disgustingly vulnerable for someone who was the most feared legend in the arena. His fingers slid together, and he drew back his arm to impale Wraith through her chest.

Centimeters before contact Wraith slipped into her other dimension and instead of weak flesh, Revenant hit the sturdy metal door and jammed his middle finger into its socket. He snapped his arm back for another blow, ready to strike as soon as Wraith phased back, eyes darting around the hallway and the apartment.

The messy room stayed empty. She had escaped.

No. No one ever escaped him. He was a professional hit man. He was death.

He was trapped here with the skinsuits but _they_ were trapped in here with him. He was too valuable to the games to be disciplined with anything meaningful, and that was only if Wraith squealed. She didn’t seem like the type, and even if she did, the dent in the door was barely visible and it would be her word again his.

Revenant went back to his room, urge to kill still sparking in his circuits but most of his mind floating calm above the bloodlust. Wraith had been moments from death. Next time, he would take her by surprise. If she ran, he would try again. Eventually she would slip up and he would feel her bones splinter under his fingers and watch her blood leak from her broken body.

Then maybe the other legends would find a way to truly end him. Then maybe he could rest.

Elliot Witt opened his eyes and wiped a line of drool from his cheek. A glance at his official Mirage voiced alarm clock made him groan and massage his forehead.

“Hey Elliot.”

Elliot pulled his knees up to his chest and screamed. Wraith winced at the sound and turned on Mirage’s desk lamp with a flick of her finger.

“Sorry, sorry, you spooked me.” said Mirage, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. “What’s up? Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, the usual late night and Revenant tried to stab me. Can I crash on your couch?”

“He tried to—Jesus are you okay?”

Mirage swung himself out of bed and wobbled, unsteady on his feet as his half drowsing brain caught up with his sore body. He looked over Wraith for any bleeding from a cautious half meter away while rubbing the crust out of his eyes.

“I’m fine, just glad he went after me since I can shift, anyone besides me would probably be dead.” said Wraith. “Fuck, I should be used to this but I’m still freaking out a little. My danger sense barely gave me enough warning. He’s _fast_.”

“I don’t think attempted murder is something you’re supposed to get used to.” Mirage said, slightly muffled as pulled on his shirt and pants.

“Don’t get up for me, I just wanted to let you know why I was here. I’ll go watch TV until I fall asleep.”

“Let me—I can make some tea and we can talk it out. I want you to feel safe.” Mirage pleaded.

“No, ugh, don’t worry about me. I’m sorry for waking you up.” said Wraith with a shake of her head. “I’ll go report it in a few hours and you can get your beauty sleep.”

“I’m beautiful already, I can spare some zees. I’ll give you space but at least let me call Ajay to check on you.”

Wraith frowned. “I’m mostly calm and I’m not hurt. You can tell everyone what happened, but all I want right now is to watch cartoons and pass out.”

She left while Mirage was still fumbling for his phone. Mirage stared after her until she was out of sight and then sank onto his bed and started typing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has commented so far, gives me motivation and makes my brain less smooth.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gibraltar has to solo queue because revenant don't need no team

Gibraltar wiped his already sweaty forehead. Usually he got a few pre-match jitters, but this was a special case.

He was sitting between Caustic and Revenant on the drop ship and despite his broad body and bulky gear they were still managing to have a fiery argument.

“In my expertise as a scientist I can tell that your attitude needs revision—"

“Do you know what happened to the scientists that created and tried to control me? I tore them and their families to pieces and then took down every Hammond facility in the country.”

“For the last time, we know. We were briefed on everything.” shot back Caustic. “You’re not special. I don’t know why I bother trying to help you.”

“If you think you can fix me, you’re deluded like every other pathetic skinbag.” Revenant was half leaned over Gibraltar to snarl in Caustic’s face and flexed his sharp fingers with every insult.

“I’m not trying to change you, merely help you break out of your self-inflicted irrational mental patterns, but apparently you would rather make yourself suffer.” sneered Caustic.

“Look at that, we’re almost to World’s Edge everyone! Where should we drop?” Gibraltar interjected.

“Oh, but it’s Revenant’s first turn being jumpmaster. Maybe he’ll send us into the lava so he can kill three things he hates in one blow.”

“It would be much more satisfying to hold your face in the fire until the meat falls off the bone.”

The other teams in the drop ship were listening intently. Their stares only made Gibraltar more anxious. This was no judgement on his character, of course, but he prided himself on helping the legends get along and if his team was falling apart before the game had even started—

“Alexander, no more insults please, act the adult. Revenant, this is a team game and you may not like it, but we’ll have to work together for the next few hours. Overlook is a low risk location that would be suitable for your first drop.”

Revenant glared at him, skull-like face alarmingly close before he withdrew to his seat. Caustic looked like he would retort but changed his mind and forced a cough into his sleeve.

The pilot announced that they had entered the atmosphere and would be initiating the countdown shortly. A last-minute makeup stylist came around to fix everyone’s blush. Gibraltar had rubbed most of his stage makeup off already and she silently reapplied the base coat while he muttered an apology.

Revenant and Caustic were blessedly silent as they moved to their launch platform, mild turbulence rocking Gibraltar’s stomach as he waited. After word got out that Revenant had attacked Wraith, the legends had become divided about what to do with the simulacrum.

Gibraltar still had hope that Revenant would adjust to life in the games but he couldn’t blame the others for wanting Revenant to move out. The game runners had issued a private rebuke of Revenant’s behavior but hadn’t done anything else. Meanwhile Caustic was taking it upon himself to try to force Revenant to be well-adjusted by applying reasonable advice with absolute arrogance. Maybe that had worked with an engineer like Wattson, but Revenant seemed more instinct driven.

It was a difficult situation that Gibraltar happened to be in the center of today. Hopefully the intensity of the game would clear their heads and they would both back down and stop threatening to kill each other.

The countdown ended and the first team was already gone to the roaring wind while the ship flew along it’s trajectory over the island.

Revenant stepped forward and Gibraltar followed him off the edge, Caustic laughing as they plummeted towards the ground.

They spread out before they landed, the tell-tale air trail of another team nearby. Gibraltar was the only one giving updates on his loot as they completed their first sweep of the area.

“Barrel stabilizer level two here.” he said, marking the item on his mini map. Silence.

“Anyone want to be sniper this game? There’s a Sentinel on the floor here with ammo.”

Comms usually were only this silent when two legends had snuck away for a tryst and Gibraltar was sure that that was not happening right now. He glanced at his map to make sure Caustic and Revenant were still in the area.

The other team didn’t approach and eventually Gibraltar signaled to Revenant and Caustic that he was moving toward the next ring if they would so kindly join him and not embarrass him in front of the audience please lord.

While he was running he looked over his shoulder and saw Revenant loping after him. Caustic appeared over the hill too, with a shotgun over his shoulder and the blue glint of armor on his chest.

Gibraltar saw the flash of detonating grenades as they approached Capitol City. Once they reached the first building Revenant was gone, scrambling to the roof like a deranged metal spider.

“There are multiple teams here, get ready for a fight.” said Gibraltar. He unstrapped his carbine and flicked off the safety while Caustic ducked through a destroyed doorway and started throwing down traps.

Gibraltar turned a concrete corner and almost collided with Octane, who reacted by darting past him and shouting to his teammates. He was left with Lifeline and Bangalore about 30 meters away and he unloaded a spray of bullets that broke Lifeline’s white armor.

She rolled away while Bangalore raised her own rifle and forced Gibraltar to throw down his dome. He weaved in and out of the edge of the glowing hemisphere, trading shots with Bangalore as she advanced.

“I’ve encountered a test subject.” said Caustic. There was a distant crash over the mike. “Engaging.”

Gibraltar’s dome flickered as his own armor shattered and the following bullets sank into his right leg. Ajay was coming back, armor charged again and Gibraltar retreated into the closest building.

Bangalore was too fast and she followed him in with an arc star and another round of bullets. He ducked away from the explosion, but couldn’t recover in time to stop Bangalore from knocking him down.

Octane or Ajay must have needed help, because Bangalore ran off before she could finish him, leaving Gibraltar to find a hiding place and pray that no one found him.

The rapid gunshots were above him now, punctuated with faint shouts. Gibraltar limped backwards until he hit the wall, drops of blood falling from his wounded leg to the floor. Even if someone didn't come by to finish him soon, he wouldn't be here for much longer.

He fumbled with his mini map, but managed to locate his teammates in the area. Caustic was locked into that other building and probably couldn't reach him in time. The scientist had to take advantage of his gas when he set his traps, since they were difficult to position on the run. Revenant was the one fighting above him and winning, judging from his near full shields.

"Revenant, I need help. Can you get to me safely?"

"I'm eliminating the enemy." came the curt reply.

"Can you take a few minutes to get me up? Then we can attack as a team."

Silence again. Gibraltar waited a minute, then shook his head in disbelief as Revenant's marker moved even further away.

"Brotha, you need to get me back up before time runs out—"

Gibraltar's vision blurred and he swore under his breath when he found himself back in a small drop ship, to await respawn or stand around until the end of the game. He had been swapped with his deathbox once he passed a certain threshold of damage that was now being healed by an attentive medical drone.

He leaned on the wall as a wave of dizziness passed through him. Once the drone had finished inserting stitches, he grunted his thanks and made his way to the waiting area where only one other unlucky legend was watching the wall length screen that showed their teammates still fighting in the arena.

Bloodhound gave him a nod as Gibraltar collapsed with a sigh on one of the mangled couches in front of the screen. He checked the status of his banner (uncollected) then closed his eyes.

That was a disaster of a first fight. He would have to avoid the internet until the next game so his attitude stayed strong. He didn't like to admit it, but the disappointment of his fans hurt more than any wounds he received in battle. He could grit his teeth through physical pain, but the barrage of hate and taunts couldn't be answered.

"How’d you end up here, Bloth?" Gibraltar asked, trying to distract himself. 

"Wraith." said the hunter, without turning around. They sounded like they were commenting on the weather. Enough championships probably eased the disappointment of an early death, though it still stung for Gibraltar.

"Mind if I turn one of these to Caustic's POV? Hoping he can still net us some points this game."

"Not betting on Revenant? He is quite the warrior." said Bloth.

Gibraltar opened his mouth, ready to complain about the simulacrum and then closed it.

"Well, you probably heard everything about last night, not to mention our argument this morning. I don't know if he's much of a team player." he admitted. "Maybe he can still get through his first few games because his kit is new, but people will catch on and without collaboration he won’t survive. There has to be a change soon, and I don't think Caustic is the one who can make it happen."

Bloodhound nodded and hunched forward to watch as the first full team was eliminated. Instead of returning to a small drop ship, they would be sent back to the main shuttle. Gibraltar thought he heard the hunter inhale, as if trying to get a whiff of the battlefield through the screen.

Gibraltar fell silent as the drop ship alternatively filled and emptied. Bloodhound left and nobody took their place in front of the display. Most people didn't want to see their remaining teammates fall without them.

Caustic and Revenant were still in, but Caustic was running low on gas and only scraping by on the loot foraged from other's boxes. There was zero chance Gibraltar was getting back in the game, but he stayed until the light shifted and the last few teams fell. Until Caustic was knocked out and joined his vigil at the screen. Until they both watched Revenant lift his bloody hand in the air, camera drones spiraling to get a close up as the announcer declared him champion.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bloodhound and rev do a mortal kombat

Bloodhound stroked a gloved finger down Artur’s back as their boots threw up puffs of dust in the steep, dry creek bed. A handful of pine needles, dislodged by the wind, made tiny impacts as they hit the thinning undergrowth. They were almost to the top of the hill, Artur a reassuring weight on Hound’s right arm.

“Don’t worry when you see him. I know you wish to defend me, but this needs to be fair.”

Artur’s beady eyes were on the piece of jerky that Hound had in their other hand. Bloodhound was aware that they talked to Artur as a coping mechanism, but maybe the raven could understand their tone. Bloodhound would send him away when they reached the crest of the hill, no matter what.

“I don’t think I can beat him outside the arena, but sometimes it is wise to be humbled.”

They fed Artur and stepped into the waning evening light. This was the first peak of the ridge above the Apex building, far enough away that the sprawling complex looked like a misshapen pebble. There was a skeletal figure waiting for them among the jumbled rocks and dry grass, torn edges of his crimson cloth fluttering in the air like trapped birds.

Earlier that day, Bloodhound had pulled Revenant aside from where the simulacrum was practicing in the firing range, and told him about a certain gap in the tall fence that surrounded the entire Apex perimeter.

“I will meet you on the eastern hill, about two miles away, at 19:00. No guns.” they said.

“For what?” asked Revenant suspiciously.

“A challenge. I have been intrigued by your recent performance and want to experience the real thing.”

Revenant had won half the games in the last week, and the euphoria cocktail mixed with media attention had kept the simulacrum distracted from more attempted murder. Now that the other legends were adapting in game, it was only a matter of time before Revenant went back to targeting them.

The other legends had plans to deal with the simulacrum, but Bloodhound preferred striking first.

Revenant took a moment to think, still holding his smoking pistol at his hip.

“This is a trick. The others will be there, or you will be connected to the game system.” he spat. 

They shrugged. “You’re not the only one who desires a true fight. 19:00. I will be there.”

They could have been a long distance runner or an environmentalist with their endurance and passion for nature. The Allfather had a different plan, and the Allfather had guided them into the forest to challenge the simulacrum to an honest fight.

“Before we start, I have one request.” Bloodhound said. They lifted their hand and Artur took off, beating black wings to rise in the air and then soaring back into the dense woods. “If you win, do not take off my mask. I prefer to keep my past life private.”

“I don’t give a shit about your identity.” said Revenant. “I’m ready. I won’t let you escape.”

Bloth took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air. They looked out to the wide view of the valley, of the buildings creeping up the edges of the forest as the area was developed.

Their blood was warm from the climb. They pulled a knife, freshly sharpened, from one of the sheaths by their side and let in slide into place in their palm.

“It is an honor to fight you.” they said. 

The gap in the fence was exactly as he had left it. Revenant pushed the chain links to the side and slid through.

The doors to the Apex building opened for him and Revenant limped inside with his triumph written all over his body. His stiff mouth was gaped in a hint of a smile.

He hoped the other legends were still awake so they could witness the omen of their doom. The cold fear they would feel knowing that one of their own, one of the best, had fallen.

It had been cathartic to be able to crush and snap and stab without his victim being whisked out of his hands and replaced with a sterile metal crate. There was something satisfying about the sudden hush after a death scream that he hadn’t found in the arena.

Bloodhound had managed to pierce the pneumatic tendons in his right arm just as Revenant had a death grip around their neck. The honorable hunter had fought surprisingly dirty, willing to retreat and force Revenant to approach on the difficult terrain while throwing a seemingly endless supply of blades that Revenant had to bat away from his joints.

When he finally flanked the hunter and forced them to fight hand to hand, one of the wires in his leg had been hacked through with a hatchet and he almost fell. Using the numb leg as a push off point, Revenant dragged Bloodhound down to the ground and slammed their head against a granite boulder. After that, the hunter was groggy and slow, and the fight was basically over.

He had stayed with the body for some time, paranoid that it had been a trap, or a trick like one of Mirage’s useless holograms. The sunset was an unsatisfactory floral pink that evening.

His damaged leg made it difficult to return to the Apex grounds, but now he was past the practice field and back inside his prison. He headed to the lounge, leaving flecks of dirt and plant matter on the clean floors.

To his disappointment, the lounge was dark and abandoned. Maybe the legends wouldn’t find out about Bloodhound until morning, since the hunter was so private and their disappearing into the woods for hours wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Revenant was about to return to his own room when he heard a soft, filtered cough.

“Welcome back.”

Revenant leapt to the side, knocking over a small coffee table with a thud. He raised his good hand between him and the hunter sitting calmly on the sofa.

“Congratulations, félagi. It is not an easy task to beat me, although if you managed to return here at all, it must have been quite one sided. You will have to tell me what happened.”

“What the fuck are you?”

“I’m Bloth of course, though I’ve forgotten whose turn it is to bring dinner tomorrow. Once I was returned here from the medical facility, I found a note in my room, written in my own hand, that told me to wait for you.”

Some part of Revenant was screaming warnings at him. Pushing memories of hidden labs and the surge of electricity and rage through his circuits as each new body came online.

Hound stood up and stretched their arms over their head with an audible pop. Revenant stumbled away, almost tripping over the fallen table, as they approached.

“The emergency hotline will help you with repairs, though if you want better quality work you can wait for the workshop to open in the morning. Mirage has quite a talent for machines. I must find Artur before I rest.”

It was the same person whose body Revenant had left split open and cold on the mountain a few hours ago. The same legend whose blood was crusted around the joints of his limp right arm. Revenant felt his breath pick up, even though he didn’t breathe, felt sweat slick his forehead as the panic made his human brain remember the body it had lost hundreds of years ago.

Bloodhound tilted their head as they advanced. He could see now that the mask they were wearing looked brand new, missing the smudges and dirt of the previous iteration.

“They have brought me back before.” said Hound. They gave a light laugh “It is expensive, but sometimes necessary. I thought you knew. I hope you do not consider this a ‘trick’ because that past Bloodhound you killed was real. You would know how much of a curse living longer than your time can be.”

Revenant knew that even in his weakened state he could kill the hunter. He should have. Instead he turned and dragged himself blindly down the nearest hallway, running from the gentle words that reinforced his worst fears.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cue redemption montage

Caustic was having a pleasant dream about desperate test subjects pounding the grey walls of Bunker when the alarm he had wired to alert him of any unwelcome nighttime visitors blared in his ear. He tore his CPAP mask from his face and heaved his aching body upright to reach his gas mask.

“Who is it?” he shouted to his computer above the alarm. His hand found the detonator in his pocket that would flood his quarters and lab with toxins.

“Revenant. Inside the lab.” was the cool robotic reply.

Caustic swore. His gas traps were all in storage and he had assumed Revenant wouldn’t be able to get through the heavily fortified lab door. He fumbled for the pistol he kept in his desk, fingers unsteady as he checked the clip and slid his feet into worn blue slippers.

He switched off the alarm and walked to the thin metal door that separated his living quarters from the lab. The harsh sound still rang in his head as he twisted the handle and hurled himself into the lab.

The automatic LEDs were on and switched to a warm amber hue that made the spilled chemicals and destroyed fume hood look like sandstone. Revenant was sprawled in the evidence of his break-in. It looked like he had broken through the wall and part of the ventilation system.

Caustic raised his pistol and aimed it at Revenant’s head.

“Have you finally come to kill me? Perhaps I was mistaken to have hope for you.”

Revenant jerked onto all fours at Caustic’s voice and scuttled towards the scientist who fired a warning shot into the floor. He was about to shoot again when Revenant said something incomprehensible in his deep synthesized voice.

“What?” Caustic said.

Revenant stopped a few meters from his feet and pounded the tile with his clenched fist until the metal was coated in white dust.

“They brought Bloodhound back, is that something they do to all the legends? Do they have my data somewhere?” he demanded.

“Uh.”

“Please tell me they haven’t done it to all of us.” Revenant stopped hitting the floor to clutch his sides and curl into a twisted fetal position. “God, I can’t keep doing this.”

Caustic slowly lowered his gun and rubbed his aching head.

“Can you be more specific? I’m flattered you came to me with your question but I’m unsure precisely what you mean—”

“I killed Bloodhound. I killed them and they were replaced with a clone or copy in hours. Do the rest of you have this same deal? The skinsuits—I was never told. Would they do it to me?”

Ah. Hound must have gambled on letting Revenant in on their dirty secret. It was something both distasteful and envious to Caustic, while the simulacrum was clearly taking it hard.

Caustic sank with a wheeze until he was hunched roughly level with Revenant. He chose his words carefully. It would be good to turn Revenant against the game runners to shift the direction of his frustration, but taking advantage of the simulacrum’s panic would backfire in the long term. Bloodhound had set up the ideal scenario, and now Caustic had to guide it to success.

“They’ve offered the option to a select few, who have mostly declined. Octane refused on principle, despite his parent’s insistence. It would be a simple matter to have a reserve for Pathfinder, but the MRVN is oddly committed to his original form. Respect for his unknown creator, of course.”

Revenant’s eyes widened as Caustic’s list went on.

“Wraith hasn’t disclosed her decision, but I would guess that the invasive biometric scans they require are untenable to her. Since she is their prize legend this year, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had scraped something together for an emergency, especially after you attacked. Mirage applied, but was rejected, the coward.”

He was betraying a lot of hard-earned trust by telling Revenant all this, but once he started it was hard to stop. He enjoyed analyzing his fellow legends and hypothesizing about the Apex industrial complex.

Revenant was still curled up, but the harsh gasps coming from his speakers had died down. Caustic paused to give him a chance to speak.

“And you were never…” the simulacrum muttered.

“No. Though I would accept in an instant if it was offered to me. That is one of many areas where we differ, though the relatively prohibitive costs of perfect cloning would make it impossible for me to end up in your situation.”

It was uncomfortable revealing his mortality to an enemy. Repeated exposure to the games and its death-defying technology hadn’t helped his latent megalomania, but Caustic quashed the feelings with reasoning. Revenant was showing vulnerability, and therefore he was reciprocating.

“I don’t want to promise you anything, but if you’re concerned that the game runners have created a copy of your consciousness, we can talk to Tae Joon and ask him to corrupt the files.” Caustic offered. He blinked to clear the stinging in his tired eyes. He was too old to fend off assassins in the middle of the night anymore.

“Tae Joon.” repeated Revenant blankly.

Caustic swore under his breath. Any more revealed secrets and he might as well be holding a sign with his bank account number on it.

“Crypto, I mean. He still has access to the Apex systems, as far as I know. They gave us a different WIFI network when he joined. We’ll have to pay his freelance rates, which are exorbitant, but—”

“He will do it, or I will end him.”

There was that familiar Revenant problem solving. Caustic let out a long sigh. “Right. Threaten the person who could help you the most, instead of paying him a fraction of your murder money for an invaluable service.”

Revenant narrowed his eyes at Caustic’s sarcastic tone. “I don’t trust any of you skinbags to do what you promise.”

Oh, this was a perfect set up. Caustic just needed to dangle the right bait and Revenant would be domesticated before the playoffs.

“I doubt he trusts you either. If he finds out about your intentions, he may use the hypothetical file as a bargaining chip.” he said.

“But,” he continued at Revenant’s snarl. “The legends are quite generous with their resources among those they care about. Perhaps we can construct a plan to work towards friendship with the others.”

Caustic couldn’t really read Revenant’s expression, but he could imagine the look of disgust he was getting. He responded with a single raised eyebrow.

“Just like every skinsuit. Always eager to use each other.” Revenant said.

“It’s the villainous thing to do.” Caustic said. “A little faux politeness could go a long way in shaving years off your life.”

He noticed that Revenant was favoring one side, and that the simulacrum was scuffed and muddy. The fume hood groaned as it tried to pull air through the gaping hole in its side and vapors were rising from the puddles on the floor.

“Alright. Once I have what I want though, I will cease with any pretenses.”

Caustic held back a smile. His smiles scared people. He stuffed the pistol in his pocket and offered his hand to Revenant, who didn’t take it and instead crawled back out of the lab through the destroyed sheet rock, shedding more glass, until it was only Caustic and a mess again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to the fine citizens that comment, i read em all and appreciate it


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> revenant tries his best

Caustic stayed in bed late the next morning and had to rush his usual game prep to make it to the shuttle on time. Luckily, games started in the mid-afternoon to attract peak viewership and so that Wraith could actually be functional when she played. His lab had taken an hour to clean the night before, and he hadn’t slept easily knowing there was still an enormous breach in the wall.

Caustic put a stack of traps in the equipment bay and headed to the cafeteria for a small lunch. There were a few other legends there, who greeted him with a nod or a careful ‘hello’, while Caustic asked the private chef for a plain chicken breast, small baked potato, and hardboiled egg.

Half-way through his small meal alone in the corner, as far from Octane’s yapping as possible, Revenant walked into the cafeteria. Caustic paused, fork halfway to his mouth, when the simulacrum headed straight for Pathfinder, sitting at a table with Ajay and Octane.

“Hi-five.” Revenant said, raising his hand in the air.

Pathfinder rose to his feet slowly, like he was afraid any sudden movement would frighten Revenant away.

The MRVN gently patted Revenant’s hand, and then looked at his own in awe. Behind him, Octane immediately had a meltdown.

“Chat did you see that? Am I hallucinating? Chat. Help me chat.” Octane sobbed.

“Up high.” said Revenant, stretching his fingers to about three feet about the MRVN’s head. Pathfinder leaned onto his metal toes to smack the hand with a clang.

Ajay gasped in shock while Octane started yelling into the camera on his chest.

“Sorry to the atheist’s in chat but I think we’ve found proof God is real. He’s real and Pathfinder is _Jesus Christ_ come to save us from our sins. Chat, take ten minutes today to go to your parent of choice and tell them you are a believer and to subscribe to this channel.”

“Down low.” Pathfinder leaned forward eagerly, but Revenant whipped his hand away before Pathfinder could make contact. “Too slow, idiot.”

“I’d like to retract my previous statement.” said Octane somberly. “Tell your parents that Jesus was murdered in the Apex cafeteria today and that our lost souls will never find peace.” Ajay laughed and shook her head.

Pathfinder was still staring at the place where Revenant’s hand had hung. His chest screen displayed the number 404.

Caustic couldn’t see too well from his corner, but Revenant seemed uncertain now. Caustic gave him a thumbs up when the simulacrum glanced his way.

Pathfinder finally straightened and his screen switched to a smiley face. “Ah, next time I will not fall for that, Revenant. It was a good trick though! You are very smart and I am excited for our game today.”

Ajay said something that Caustic couldn’t hear and Octane waved at Revenant to sit down at their table.

Caustic went back to his potato, with one eye on the conversation while Octane circled the simulacrum for close ups of his body. He hadn’t expected Revenant to try to make friends so soon. Hopefully he kept that iconic charm when engaging with the other legends.

He didn’t encounter Revenant during the game that day. When he was ultimately downed by Bloodhound, the ring was almost upon them and the other teams had left the area. The hunter stomped on his elbow when Caustic tried to reach for a syringe and bent over him until the fur lining of their armor was tickling his nose.

“Forgive me, but I can’t remember if it was my turn for dinner tonight.” they said.

“It is.” said Caustic through pain gritted teeth.

Hound cursed in Icelandic and pressed their boot harder into Caustic’s chest. There were traces of gas in the air, but the hot breeze rising from the lava below them had carried most of it away.

“I don’t have anything prepared and it takes a few hours to hunt. Can you or Bangalore cover for me?”

Caustic rolled his eyes while trying to throw off the hunter’s balance with a punch to the Achilles. “I’ll figure something out.”

An arc star crashed through the cracked window and stuck to the wall above their heads. Bloodhound darted away and with a flash of blue light Caustic found himself back on the main ship. When he saw Revenant standing alone by the wall, eyeing the legends commiserating with each other, he knew who he was going to invite to dinner.

“Are you nervous?” Caustic asked as he poured slices of rich orange tomatoes into the saucepan. Revenant was watching the water in the sturdy pasta pot with the concentration of someone trying to land a Kraber headshot.

“Why would I be?”

Caustic rinsed the cutting board and joined Revenant at the stove. The simulacrum moved a couple centimeters to the left when Caustic bumped his thigh.

“I thought Bloodhound had become a source of concern for you. I wanted you to know they didn’t mind me inviting you to dinner. Now they’ll have company when they watch Anita and I eat.”

Revenant scoffed and dipped two fingers in the water. “I know what they’re capable of. I don’t find them very impressive anymore. This water is taking too long to boil.”

Caustic stared at the offending fingers.

“Did you wash your hands?”

Revenant turned his head to look at a spot of grease on the wall of the small kitchen and didn’t respond.

Caustic had seen the sheer amount of blood Revenant was covered with on a daily basis and he knew that blood was human and probably filled with every strain of Hepatitis in the galaxy.

“Didn’t you get the blood borne pathogen training when you—of course you didn’t. It’s a good thing the sauce can simmer for a while because we need to throw the water out and start over.”

Caustic reached for the pot but Revenant snatched it away.

“I’ve been waiting for this water to boil for ages.” he said defensively. “The heat should kill everything anyways.”

“You haven’t cooked for centuries and it’s the principal of the thing, just throw out the water and clean your hands this time.” Caustic snapped.

Revenant poured the water out, poured dish soap over his claws, and made a big show out of rubbing them together. After he rinsed off the suds, he filled the pot and slammed it back on the stove. He resumed his vigil over the burner, while Caustic inspected the sauce and pushed the seared tomatoes around the pan. 

“You know, you did well with Pathfinder this morning. It was most humorous.” Caustic said, after a few minutes.

“I’m glad infantile tricks amuse you.” Revenant replied.

“Octane is a suitable legend to approach, though he comes with the unfortunate side effect of dragging the masses around with him. You can add the pasta now. Cook it with the lid off for seven minutes.”

Revenant dumped the whole box of cheap macaroni in the water. Caustic hissed when a splash of scalding water hit his hand. Revenant flicked his glowing eyes to Caustic.

“I tried to talk to him on the ship but he was always with someone else and I didn’t want to appear desperate.” the simulacrum admitted.

“It takes time and you’ve only had a day. You had a rough start and some legends won’t forgive you, but keep trying.”

Revenant fell silent and continued to follow Caustic’s instructions as they prepared dinner.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> crypto follows his gut. life carries on

There were unwritten rules that Crypto followed. Not a moral code, per se, but guidelines that made it less likely for him to end up dead and his existence doubly wiped from history.

One of these rules was that when someone below the median level of ‘good’ offered you a breathtakingly ridiculous sum of money for your services, you had to ask people in the upper echelon of ‘good’ for input before you take the deal.

Yes, he did have a ranking spreadsheet based on variables like total number of murders (estimated), reason for joining the games, manners, and search history. A lot of the variables were qualitative, but breaking down the whole of morality into three categories was prone to error.

For the legends, the good, in order from highest to lowest, were Gibraltar, Ajay, Wattson, and Bangalore. The neutrals in similar fashion were Pathfinder, Mirage, himself, Wraith, Octane, and Bloodhound, while the only so called bad guys were Caustic and Revenant. Sure he liked Caustic. Admired him, before and after he joined the games himself, but if the scientist offered him fifty million credits for a relatively easy job, he’d be suspicious.

When it was Revenant, the simulacrum who had more IRL kills on his hands than the rest of the legends by an order of magnitude, it felt smart, even prudent to hop on the ‘goods’ group chat and _panic_.

A meeting in Gibraltar’s apartment was scheduled the next morning, given the abundance of comfortable seating and protective equipment. The room was faintly aromatic when Crypto walked in, a mix of coconut oil and sandalwood that made him nostalgic.

He waited on the couch while the other legends filed in, Gibraltar greeting each woman with a slap on the back and offered refreshments.

“Hi guys, thanks for coming, I wanted some advice about the situation I wrote about last night. Yeah. Revenant’s sketch.” said Crypto.

“He’s been acting a lot better recently. I think Caustic finally got through to him.” said Gibraltar. “I know you don’t want to disclose what the request was, but if it doesn’t do any direct or indirect harm, then it should be fine.”

Bangalore indicated with her hand that she wanted speak after Gibraltar.

“Okay first of all, I’m jealous of you Crypto. Revenant’s offering you double the yearly prize pool of Apex for a low risk job. If I was you, I would do it and be AWOL before you could blink, but I appreciate you taking time to think. Since Revenant hasn’t shown any shown any recent signs of turning traitor, he should be clear.”

Ajay had DOC floating above her lap, while she lay sprawled on Gibraltar’s largest bean bag. She checked on the drone’s tubing while tapping a cheery rhythm on its side. Natalie shrugged when Crypto looked at her.

“As long as you’ll help us if we ever need to take him down, I don’t mind.” she said in her light accent.

Gibraltar clapped his hands together. “Anything else you’re worried about, brotha?”

The sudden dismissal took Crypto by surprise. He tugged on the hair on the back of his head to make sure it was still gelled in place.

“Uh, no, nothing else. Thanks everyone for coming again.”

The problem with the ‘goods’ was that they were nice. Smart, but too forgiving of a Syndicate hitman for Crypto’s tastes.

He could ask the ‘neutrals’, but the problem with them was that they were wacky. Enough of them together and they were worse than children. Crypto had his thumb on the chat group icon before he thought better of it and went to work out instead.

A few hundred reps later on the weight machine and he made his decision. Crypto wiped the sweat off his face and cybernetics with a towel and cleaned the machine before he started his calisthenics routine.

He had wanted to ask for advice because he was afraid of turning down the money, even though deep down he didn’t want to take the job. Crypto, like the other legends, was keeping tabs on the simulacrum and it really seemed like he was getting settled. Even though there wasn’t an issue with Revenant or the job itself, he could still say no. He wanted to say no.

Once he finished a set of planks, pushups, lunges and squats in front of the mirror, he wiped his yoga mat down and pulled out his phone to message Revenant.

After lunch, he went back to his room to find Revenant waiting outside the door. They stared each other done for a few seconds before Crypto broke contact by shaking the hair out of his face.

“Yeah, come in.” Crypto fiddled with the stun gun in his pocket as he typed in his fifteen digit door code.

Revenant took a seat on the guest chair and Crypto did a nonchalant hop-slide around him and the edge of the bed to reach his desk and the specialized recon drone resting on top of it. The smaller than average room was his willing tradeoff for the best internet speed in the building.

“I thought about your offer and I’m turning it down.” Crypto said.

Get the worst out of the way. Be direct. Have exit routes planned and a gun in your pocket.

Revenant twitched in his chair and Crypto had to force himself to stay seated.

“Usually I would recommend some contacts of mine, but the game runners are a lot less forgiving when outsiders hack into the system. Sorry.”

He blinked. For half a second it looked like Revenant was shifting into his shadow form, but the simulacrum was still his normal metal self.

“I understand. You do not trust me yet. Very well.” the simulacrum stood abruptly and Crypto scooted his chair to the other side of his desk.

“It is good that you cannot be bought so easily, unlike some skinbags.” Revenant said, staring down at the hacker from his stylized skull cheekbones.

“Thanks?” Crypto said. He had really just refused because he wasn’t comfortable with the whole situation, but he wasn’t going to tell Revenant that. The simulacrum would probably call him an outdated internet slur or kill him.

Revenant dipped his head and left, leaving Crypto to catch his breath.

When Caustic walked into the men’s locker room, he let out a long sigh when his shoes crunched on glass. Thankfully they had started replacing the mirrors with a safe shatter material that fell into chunks instead of razor-sharp shards, so it was more of an inconvenience than a danger. More importantly, it was a sign that Revenant was in a bad mood.

Under Caustic’s careful guidance, the simulacrum was becoming a model citizen. Zero murders since joining the games and an above average win record since he learned how to tolerate a team. Caustic even had someone to laugh at horror movies with him.

The game runners should give Caustic a raise from property damage savings and the other legends should give him an award for their current peace of mind. Both low probability scenarios, but Caustic liked to dream sometimes.

He found a scrap of mirror still hanging above the sinks and trimmed his beard. As Revenant had gotten more comfortable with the other legends, he spent less time with Caustic, which suited the scientist fine. It was another sign of progress and Revenant always came back when he wanted sensible advice. He wouldn’t be surprised if the simulacrum was lurking somewhere in his lab after this tantrum.

Sure enough, when he returned to his quarters, the touchpad lock on the door showed that someone had entered a half hour ago. He gave Revenant his door code some time ago, bargaining his security and the occasional glassware for fewer holes in the wall.

Caustic had to look around for a second before he spotted Revenant contorted on top of the industrial sized liquid nitrogen tank.

He pulled up a stool to the base of the tank and sat with his elbow on the lab bench and head tilted up with what he hoped was a patient, inquiring look.

Revenant glowered at him and settled into a more stable crouched position before speaking.

“Crypto refused my request.”

“Unexpected. Did he say why?” Caustic said.

“No. I decided to take matters into my own hands and told my HR representative to pass on a threat of unending death and carnage if Apex tries to replicate Hammond’s work.”

Caustic nodded with approval.

“Despite this I was still—” Revenant worked his neck. “—disappointed by my lack of answers.”

“That would be expected.” 

Revenant looked around the lab for a moment. Buying time to think over what to say next. Caustic waited. Revenant rarely talked about his feelings, even after all this time. His most revealing outburst was still the one after he fought Bloodhound and broke into the lab.

“Octane invited me to a rage room in the city this weekend.”

Emotional opportunity missed. Caustic was privately disappointed, but he played along with the small talk.

“I have heard of such places where you pay to wreck cheap or discarded items. It sounds cathartic, though I worry you will leave nothing left for the other attendees.”

“That is my intention. The skinsuits who try to work out their frustration will be reduced to their impotent rage, until their murderous intent crystallizes and unleashes a wave of destruction greater than I could ever imagine.”

Caustic laughed until he started coughing.

The legends used their day off to train, work, and relax. On the other side of the building, ordinary people with far fewer fans and followers scheduled meetings and planned dinner. Some stayed until dark to coordinate with the construction crews that rushed to repair and stock the arena before the next game. The automatic lights inside the facility dimmed as the city lit up, dulling the stars to nothing.

Bloodhound slid through the fence after a long day in the mountains, a field dressed rabbit hanging from their belt. Wraith finished her light dinner and went to the empty practice range. Legends brushed their teeth or chugged energy drinks.

Caustic got up from his computer and stretched, satisfied by the day’s results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun fic to write and thanks to everyone who read it. I draw oc and occasionally apex stuff on my tumblr: https://thetippler.tumblr.com/


End file.
